


i'm all alone and the night is so long.

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Crushes, Drunkenness, Emetophobia, M/M, Secret Crush, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: | ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ |
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	i'm all alone and the night is so long.

He had had how many beers? Three bottles? Three _crates_? John had lost count along the way and, _bloody hell_ , was his head spinning around like he was a fairground attraction up in Blackpool. Stumbling through the deserted streets in search of a brief reprieve from the loud lights and harsh yells… _or was it harsh lights and loud yells_? John vomited next to a garbage can, much to the displeasure of a nearby homeless man and his dog. John muttered a slurred apology that really sounded like nothing at all and continued his way to absolutely fucking nowhere. Where was he going? He had no idea and only followed where his feet took him as he was far too busy trying to stay upright and not fall flat on his already bruised nose. He’d rather not think of how that happened during the night, (fucking bird couldn’t take a joke).

John nearly lost his mind trying to navigate through the inane suburban street he had managed to stumble unto. It looked nothing like something that would be near a pub, yet here he was. For how long had he walked? He checked his wrist for the time and blinked for a few silent moments at the bare, cold skin that he exposed. _No watch_! He couldn’t recall if he had lost it or simply hadn’t worn it. He hiccuped, _whatever_. He could rely on his gut feeling for one night and force down the vile building up.

He fell into the hedge of a vaguely familiar house as the result of a failed attempt at getting from the asphalted road to the concrete of the sidewalk. He was unharmed, luckily, save for the poking of the branches and his hurt pride. He heaved and cursed as he tried and failed continuously in getting back up again. He gave up. He was far too drunk and heavy on beer to muster up the energy. The sky was cloudless and dark. He could see nothing but the stars and the faint glow of streetlights just out of his peripheral view.

He wished Paul was here. He desperately wished him to be here. But no matter how hard he shut his eyes with repeats of the divine name, no matter how hard he tried, nothing would make Paul appear. He wouldn’t have let it come to this. Sure, he was a sloppy drunk too, but he would at least have found his way back home from the pub they _frequented_. But John missed more of Paul than just temperance control and road guidance. He missed his… his eyes; soft and lovely, accentuated by his dark lashes. Looking like something John would have studied back in art school. And, by _God_ , the hair on those arms. John couldn’t tell if it was jealous or lust _or both_. No seventeen-year-old should have such a growth, _fuck_.

Amongst the cold leaves, John’s breathing slowed as his thoughts focused on Paul, rather than on his multiple failures as a drunk. Honing in on the images of his soft lips and gentle strumming of the guitar, wishing those slender fingers were strumming _something else_. John’s eyes grow heavy as a thick sensation wrapped around him like a tired hug. He didn’t feel alone in the bush of someone uppity, somewhere unknown and dark, as his mind wandered hand-in-hand with the love he could only dream of. Never to touch or to hold, but in dreamland.


End file.
